


i fell asleep in a city that doesn't

by bellawritess



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hotels, M/M, Manhattan, New York City, Romance, Sleepy Boys, hotel rooms are for lovers has that been done, i have ONE skill folks, im just like......how many different ways can i romanticize new york, jk i know it's been done. by me, poetic shit, that tag is so cute, they say fuck ONE time and that's why the T rating, this is straight fluff though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: It's just that Alex doesn't want to fall asleep to the noise. He likes the noise. It's familiar and foreign at once, a mess of people he'll never meet on paths he'll never cross, silvery wisps of sound winding around each other until the braided threads weave themselves into fuzzy clouds, hovering above the midnight city, redefining white noise.  Alex wants to listen. He wants tohear.
Relationships: Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	i fell asleep in a city that doesn't

**Author's Note:**

> honest to god i was gonna go to sleep last night but then as i was trying to fall asleep i could hear the sounds of the world outside and i remembered this lyric from simple existence and i couldn't not write this. it possessed me
> 
> so ive now reread the whole thing and edited it as much as possible to make it make more sense but it still definitely was written on my phone in a state of total incoherence at 5am so............good luck i guess? shoutout [peyton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/woahsos) for being a homie and [megs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingscrossinseptember) who probably won't read this just for listening to me complain while i was attempting to wrangle this into some semi comprehensible work of fiction
> 
> anyway. this one is for manhattan, whom i miss so very very much. i would commit many crimes to fall asleep in an nyc hotel right now
> 
> title from simple existence by state champs

Falling asleep in New York City is one of the hardest things in the world.

It's impossible for Alex to describe the feeling this city gives him, like it’s emptying him out with the singular goal of filling him back up, a little different; glitzier or grittier, a little more lost, a little more found. Every time Alex comes here, he leaves as someone new. The change happens on the inside, subtle but unmistakable, and the effect lingers until he falls asleep for the first time anywhere else. For those rare short hours between leaving the city and falling asleep outside of it, Alex loves being Different Alex. It makes him feel like he's got a new perspective on everything.

Still, as much as he savors the sensation, he can’t make himself drift off.

They’re here now, put up in a hotel that is for most intents and purposes exactly like every other hotel. Alex is no stranger to hotels. The way his life has gone, it would probably be faster to count the cities he _hasn't_ slept in. By and large, they blur together, but there's something special about New York.

It certainly doesn't hurt that Jack is here.

Not _here_ in the city, but _here_ in Alex's hotel room bed, arms around Alex and face pressed into his neck. Everything is warm from their hideout under the blanket. This could almost be a hotel in Chicago or Austin or San Francisco —

But beyond the glass doors of the balcony, the muted sounds of racing cars and a living, breathing city leave no doubt that this is Manhattan.

The noise is what does it. Alex closes his eyes. He could listen to that noise all night. It would almost be worth staying up just to listen to it. If they didn't have an early flight tomorrow, Alex would. He's struggling to fall asleep anyway.

It's not that he's not tired or anything. There's a deep-seated weariness in Alex's bones from so much travel; it's been a permanent fixture of his life since about 2009 and it shows no signs of dissipating. And he _is_ tired, in a more immediate sense, languor melting his limbs into the hotel room bedsheets. If Alex wanted to fall asleep, he thinks he probably could do it. That would be the responsible thing to do, but the sounds of the city are keeping him up.

They're not too loud. In fact, the steadiness of the traffic almost mimics a lullaby; anyone looking to fall asleep to the noise could do so easily. It's just that Alex doesn't want to fall asleep to the noise. He likes the noise. It's familiar and foreign at once, a mess of people he'll never meet on paths he'll never cross, silvery wisps of sound winding around each other until the braided threads weave themselves into fuzzy clouds, hovering above the midnight city, redefining white noise. Alex wants to listen. He wants to _hear_.

So when he closes his eyes, it's not to fall asleep; it's so he can tune in to the buzzing world outside the hotel.

There's buzzing against the back of his neck, too. Jack is murmuring something, lips on skin: "Lex? You still up?"

Alex has been pretty still, under the impression that Jack had been sleeping, but more than likely Jack just knows Alex well enough to guess that he’d still be awake. Jack is always keeping track of things like that, forever updating whatever mental folder holds all his information on Alex. While Alex’s love is all words and meaning, Jack’s is unwavering attention. Jack’s is knowing Alex better than Alex knows himself.

Alex hums his assent. "Thought you were asleep."

"I'm in and out," Jack says quietly. The drowsiness of his voice attests to that, at least. "You should really try to fall asleep. We have to get up really early."

"I know."

"I figured you wouldn't, though," Jack whispers. "You never sleep when we're in Manhattan."

Alex would love to disagree, but he can't. He'd love to tell Jack that he's trying, but he isn't.

"Why would I sleep?" he answers. "I've never been anywhere more alive. It'd be like trying to fall asleep at a football game."

Jack sighs. He presses the ghost of a kiss to Alex's neck. "You've been to New York probably a hundred times. Don't you get used to it?"

Alex swallows and carefully shifts in Jack's arms until he can turn and see Jack's face. “That’s like asking if I get used to loving you,” he says. “Of course I don’t. I hope I never do.”

“I don’t think it’s the same,” Jack says, wry.

“I can’t get used to something if it’s constantly changing,” Alex says. “Even if the noise always sounds the same, I know it isn’t. It’s different people doing different things every time. This intersection of events that have come together to create the white noise, it’s never going to happen again the way it’s happening right now. And I love that.” Cradling Jack’s face through the darkness, he adds, “You’re always changing, too. Even when you look the same, I know you’re not. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

"Alex," Jack sighs. It's hard to tell if he's pleasantly surprised or if he just can't be bothered to put up with Alex's romantic shit right now, but the train of thought has unlocked something in Alex.

"No, really," he says softly, angling his head just a little to smile at Jack. He can feel the corners of Jack’s smile under his thumb. Love like loud music swells in Alex’s chest, overwhelming and unrivaled and demanding recognition, the kind that hurts from how good it is. "No matter how many times we come here, I feel like it’s the first time. And I've been in love with you for, I don't know, ten years, and yet every day I fall in love like I've never done it before. And you make it so easy, Jack. You’re the easiest person in the world to love.”

“Alex,” Jack says weakly again. His lips graze Alex's cheek and Alex feels the shadow of his smile. "Why are you always at your maximum cheesiness when I'm exhausted?"

"I know you'll out-romance me otherwise," Alex teases, nestling into Jack. The universe expands as his world shrinks. Their bed-island floats solitary in a massive cosmos and they're all that's left, just them and the New York City surround sound. Jack is the anchor, insofar as anyone is. Across cities, states, countries, and continents, the only thing Alex can count on to never abandon him is Jack. Whatever happens, wherever they are, Alex falls asleep in Jack's arms night after night. Even New York City can't promise such loyalty.

Maybe Jack is as dynamic as the city, but that’s where the similarities end. New York's effect is profound but fleeting; it sweeps through Alex and then leaves him with an indescribable sense that his soul has just been rewritten. But as much as he's in love with Manhattan, it doesn't care about him. If Alex never returned, this city would carry on as usual, nighttimes still filling with noise that would never reach Alex's ears.

Jack cares about Alex. Jack loves him. And God, it feels good to be loved.

"I'll sleep now," he promises, eyes fluttering shut. Jack just hums gently and hugs Alex closer, and it's safe here, comfortable, familiar. All things that New York City, for all its strengths, isn't. 

"I love you," Jack mumbles. "You don't have to worry that I'll love any city or anything or anyone else more than you, just so you know. I'm all yours."

Another promise Manhattan could never keep.

“Jack, I’m all yours too.” Alex brushes his lips above the collar of Jack’s shirt, to the warmth of his collarbone. “Don’t get a complex.”

There's a smile in Jack's voice. "I don't mind sharing. You have something special going on with New York."

"Sweetheart," Alex murmurs, "it's all you. Nothing in the world comes anywhere close. Sorry to say it, but that top spot is yours alone."

Jack is quiet for a moment. "Oh no," he finally responds, deadpan. "Being the number one person you love. What a cross to bear."

Alex laughs quietly into Jack's chest. "Go to sleep, you sappy fuck."

"Goodnight," Jack says fondly, pressing a lingering kiss into Alex's hair. 

The sounds of Manhattan, for once, fade to the background. Hotel room and city and everything outside of Jack's arms blur into nothingness, and all that remains is a feeling Alex is as familiar with as if it were part of his own anatomy. It’s the feeling of falling asleep curled up against Jack, or, in a word, love.

Sleep pulls at Alex, and finally he yields.

**Author's Note:**

> see you next week for another episode of jalex in new york city ! is that a joke or not? your guess is as good as mine :))) anyway i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hello okay goodbyeeee


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